


What It's About

by Morgana



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 11:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2730212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't really about the stinking radio at all</p>
            </blockquote>





	What It's About

He doesn't expect Harris to understand when he shoves the boy's radio into his bag. It's not about the sodding appliance, cheap and crappy as it is. It's about regaining a tiny piece of what's been taken from him, reminding himself that he's still a vampire and therefore better than the pathetic excuse for a human that he's been staying with. He might have traded the depressing basement for a dank crypt, but he's doing it on his terms, standing on his own two feet instead of continuing to depend on the Scoobies' charity. The fucking chip might've taken humans off the menu and removed torture from his arsenal of weapons, but it hasn't really changed him. He's still a vampire, and that means he takes what he wants from whomever he pleases, whether it's some bloke's girl, the Watcher's best whiskey, or Harris' radio.

Spike would never willingly admit to another soul that it's also about human contact. TV's all well and good, but most of it's scripted and shot ahead of time, no different really than a book or play, while radio, for the most part, is live. The people that call in and request songs or debate various issues are doing so right at the moment, and their stories of depression and heartbreak and romance are more touching than any soap can ever hope to be - yes, even Passions. Through them, he can connect a little bit to the world beyond his crypt, can remind himself that he's not the only hopeless, struggling blighter out there, and when he's really depressed, he just thinks about the fact that he'll stay young and beautiful long after the sad sacks calling in to talk to the DJs have aged and gotten fat and crumbled into dust.

Mayflies, all of them. Like Harris himself, really. The lad's life is a blip on the radar screen in comparison to Spike's, even if he could somehow manage to avoid getting killed by one of the nasties he regularly lets smack him around. Thing is, he doesn't even realize it. None of them do - they just keep on going, blind to the things around them that barely have time to turn around before they're gone. They'll all be rotting in the grave long before Spike gets around to deciding what continent he's going to visit next, whatever beauty or brilliance they possessed wiped out of existence in the same amount of time it takes a Krypkey demon to choose a new victim. Not necessarily the blink of an eye, since those blighters tend to be downright picky about their prey, but still, hardly any real scope of time when compared to Spike's nearly 200 years of existence.

He thinks about that sometimes, how he's been around close to two centuries (technically closer to one, but he likes to stretch it a bit when he's feeling poetical and self-reflective) and yet he's still the youngest of his family. Well, okay, that's not counting the minions Angelus saw fit to create when he was last out, and there's even the one soldier from WWII that might still be out there, but he doesn't count those. They were created for cheap labor and a necessity to keep them all from being killed, and that's not the same as being family. Not that family counts for much anymore, what with Darla and the Master having been dusted, Angelus souled, and Dru off in the arms of whichever slimy demon she's fancying at the moment. Spike wonders if it would've made a difference, having his family around to help him cope with the fucking chip, if they'd have provided for him or been caught alongside him. He does his best not to think about that possibility, about seeing Angelus trapped behind the electrified glass or having to hear Drusilla scream when they carried their little 'experiments' out on her. Once in a while he'll try to fantasize about a family that protects him and provides for him, offering food and what passes for tender care, but he usually can't sustain the illusion much beyond a brief wistful thought. Besides, if he's truly honest with himself, he knows that with the fucking chip, he'd probably have been deemed a liability and either dusted or thrown out to fend for himself.

And that would've led him right back to where he is now, neither fish nor fowl, not truly a vampire anymore but not a human, either. So no, he doesn't expect Harris will see anything beyond Spike stealing something of his - the boy's not exactly the kind to understand death and destiny and comfort being wrapped up in a cheap piece of plastic. But something about the way he puts up only a token protest makes him wonder if maybe, just maybe, he gets it anyhow.


End file.
